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The Summer Getaway: A Novel(71)

Author:Susan Mallery

“You’d think,” Robyn said lightly. “Are you okay with the baby?”

“I don’t know. It’s surreal. Zafina and I aren’t exactly tight, and—” Harlow’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap! She’s having a baby with my father. That makes their kid what? My half brother or sister and my niece or nephew? This is so twisted. Now they’ll get married, and he’ll be my father and brother-in-law. I’m going to need therapy.”

“We all will,” Robyn murmured.

“Why did she have to get pregnant? She should know better. And Dad! He’s too old to have a baby.” She grabbed Robyn’s hands. “Mom, make it stop.”

Words her little girl used to beg all those years ago, when she’d been enduring cancer treatment.

“I wish I could.” She squeezed Harlow’s fingers. “I think for now, we just have to endure.”

Harlow sagged back in her chair, then straightened, as if she’d just remembered something. “Mom, Aunt Lillian talked to me about my inheritance. She’s leaving two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to me and to Austin.”

Robyn smiled at her, not letting on she wasn’t surprised. Lillian had mentioned her plan a couple of days ago. “That’s very generous.”

“She said she didn’t want us to wait to get the money. Austin’s going to use some of his to pay for college. He’s being really responsible.”

“He is.” Robyn did her best to keep her tone neutral. “What about you? Do you want to buy the kayak business?”

Harlow shook her head. “No. It would have been different if Dad had been helping me. But on my own? I’m not ready. And it’s not really calling to me, which makes me feel doubly stupid about expecting Dad to buy it for me.”

Relief filled Robyn. She’d worried Harlow would want to jump at the chance—before she had the experience or possibly the drive. But her daughter had figured that out all on her own.

“I’m really proud of you, honey. You’re so grown-up.” And beautiful, Robyn thought. Harlow had always been a pretty child, but in the past couple of years, she’d completely blossomed.

“I’m trying,” Harlow said. “I want to be smart about my inheritance. It’s a huge amount of money, and I refuse to waste it on something stupid. I’m working on a plan.”

“Good for you. Want to talk about it or dinner?”

“Dinner,” Harlow said with a laugh. “People are going to be getting hungry. You choose the wine, and I’ll call in the order. Austin can pick it up while I set the table. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

Robyn started for the wine cellar, wondering if two bottles was enough or if she should get three. With luck, the weirdness of the day had passed, and dinner would be a quiet affair with only mundane conversation. That was the fantasy.

At least the meeting between Mason and Cord had been easy. Her ex hadn’t known what to make of the other man, and after a brief greeting and handshake, Mason had pretty much dismissed Cord as uninteresting. She should have known not to be worried.

Mindy and Payne had made an afternoon appearance. They seemed to have worked through most of their issues and had asked to join everyone for dinner. Hopefully Cord, Mindy and Payne would head back to Florida in the morning, and the rest of them could get on with their lives.

She took three bottles of wine to the dining room. Harlow was there with Mason, pointing to the various dinner sets in the large hutches.

“It’s Italian,” she was saying. “I’m not sure which plates go best with Italian.”

Mason stared at her helplessly. “Why does it matter? It’s food on plates. Isn’t that enough?”

Harlow patted his arm. “Silly man. Of course it matters.”

“It really doesn’t,” Robyn said lightly.

They both turned to face her. Mason immediately looked relieved while her daughter appeared more disappointed.

“Oh, Mom, I was hoping to torture him a few more minutes.”

Mason stared at her. “You were playing me? You don’t care about the china pattern?”

“Of course not, but it was fun to make you think I did.” She grinned. “I have a wicked sense of humor. You’re going to have to get used to that.”

Robyn set down the bottles of wine and moved to him. “I think she likes you,” she said in a low voice. “Teasing is a sign of affection.”

“Then why don’t you tease me more?”

She leaned close and whispered into his ear. “I show my affection in other ways.”

“Good ways,” he murmured back.

“Hey, keep it clean, people,” Harlow said, pulling down dishes. “There are things I don’t want to know about you two.”

“That is very true,” Mason told Harlow before crossing to her. “These plates?”

“Yes. They’ll look lovely with the lasagna. See how the floral pattern will pick up the red of the sauce?”

He groaned. “You’re killing me.”

“Then my work here is done.”

* * *

The odd mix of company made for an interesting meal, Harlow thought, passing her brother the last tray of lasagna. Mindy and Payne had been charming, acting like a regular couple rather than one who had spent the past four days trying to save their marriage through screaming fights and sex.

Lillian was perfect as hostess, entertaining everyone with stories about travels with Leo and adventures with Robyn as a girl. Even Mason, normally more reticent at the larger meals, had talked about his life in the army.

Her father, usually the center of attention, had been oddly quiet. She kept catching him looking at her, as if he wanted to say something. Harlow wasn’t interested in whatever he wanted to tell her. The whole Zafina being pregnant thing made her want to throw up a little in her mouth, and she wasn’t ready to talk about going back to work for him.

She understood the benefits—that she could learn about the business she loved and planned to take over one day. She mostly liked working for her dad, and because of her relationship as his only daughter, she got more flexibility than the other employees. She could pick the best assignments if she wanted. Not fair but very much her reality.

And that was how she’d seen her life going. She had a wedding to plan and a new life to start. Why would she want to stress about her job?

Only that didn’t sound as right as it had a month ago. Everything she’d thought she’d known about herself and her place in the world had suddenly shifted.

She wanted… She picked at her salad, not sure how to explain the yearning inside. She glanced at Mason, who was telling a funny story about being in a broken Humvee on the side of an autobahn in Germany. Everyone listened, not only because he knew how to command a room, but because of who he was. Mason was the kind of person you respected. He was honest and careful, and she knew he would take good care of her mom.

She wanted to be like that. Oh, not the army or taking care of her mom, but more than a flaky kid who got by because her daddy let her.

She looked at Lillian who, in maybe her forties, had gone down South to register Black people to vote. She could have been beat up or worse, but she’d done it. And her brother, who took his time making his decisions, but damn did he get them right.

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